


The Choirboy's Tale

by The_absolute_worst_fanby



Category: Ninety-Nine Righteous Men (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Astral sex, Claustrophobia, Demon Sex, Dream!Daniel might be Asmodeus, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shapeshifting, Slice of Life, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-12-19 21:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11906994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_absolute_worst_fanby/pseuds/The_absolute_worst_fanby
Summary: A three part series describing the events before, during, and after Ninety-Nine Righteous Men from Caleb's perspective. Creative liberties and headcanons were used.





	1. The Foolish Magician

**_6-8 weeks before Corpus_ **

A book falling in the library was not something unusual, nor something overly surprising. A book without a sticker on the spine was also not unusual, as people often forget things in the library. He had found a variety of things, each strange in their own ways. Purses and bags were as common as flu in a school yard, but he had also found things that were much, much stranger. One night in the library, he had found a lego replica of the Mona Lisa. Another time, it was a fully annotated text book and the rough draft of an undergraduate thesis. This was an unusual occurrence for a very different reason, one that deeply unsettled Caleb. That book should not have been there. It probably shouldn’t have been within 50 miles from that very spot. It probably shouldn’t have existed, had Caleb been allowed to choose. 

So what the hell was a book on dark magic and demons doing in the library of a small, mostly Catholic town? 

Caleb picked up the book, keeping one hand on his cart, and thumbed through the pages. 

No, that should not be here, he thought. 

It was a surprisingly new book, considering the nature of it. The pages were the matte white paper of a uncracked volume. Black ink, the standard for a commercial print, formed sentences describing dark rites. Caleb turned the page, and closed the book in disgust. Instructions on summoning demons was bad enough, but the illustrations pushed it over the top. That three-headed monster would haunt his nightmares. He placed the book on the cart, resolving to take it home and to the city or, better yet, destroy it.

After a few more hours of shelving books, the clock struck seven and Caleb’s shift was over. The night librarian would be able to take care of the library for the last few hours it was open. Even though she wasn’t the most pleasant girl. Caleb pushed the cart back into the storage room, picking up the book on his way out. He waved goodbye to the blonde librarian, and opened the door into the early spring evening. The sun had just set, the light of dusk still filtering in to soften the stars. Nothing was more beautiful. Except Father Daniel. Not that that would ever happen. Not that such that such thoughts mattered. 

Moving his thoughts away from the handsome priest, Caleb opened the door to his car, an unremarkable four-door sedan. It had not been new when he had bought it, but it worked with few repairs and had been cheap for the make and model. He put the book down in the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt. He started the car and put it into gear, driving from the parking lot towards his apartment. 

Few people were out in the small town at night, and Caleb knew the route by heart, so he could let himself drift into his thoughts a little. The scenery was the same combination of banal green foliage and clusters of homes that he saw every night. The moon was a half circle of blue-gray light, brightening the pools of dark between the streetlights. The starry sky was brighter here than it had been when he was at college, and he supposed that it calmed him in a way, reminding him of his boyhood in this town. It had been peaceful and nice. Everything a childhood should be. 

Until he realized he liked other boys. When he had first mentioned it, his parents had told him to be quiet about it and realize that his crushes were just him wanting to be friends, and that eventually he would grow to like girls like all of his other classmates. That day never came. The next time he mentioned it, he was 16. His mother had asked when he was planning to find and marry a nice girl. He had answered honestly, and from that day forward his parents had spoken to him in  strained tones. They never said they thought he was going to hell, but it was obvious they believed he would. He had moved to college soon after, resolving not to return home, and when he came back he fell for a man he could never have. 

Caleb looked at the book. Could that be the answer he was finally looking for? He had heard tales of demons granting magical abilities to humans in exchange for a soul. Surely they could nudge Daniel towards abandoning priesthood and marrying him? It might even cost him less -- perhaps a few years of servitude. At worst, he would end up in hell, and if he were to be honest with himself, he knew he was going there anyway. But he would still have a life with the man he loved, and wouldn’t that be enough to keep him through eternity? Caleb internally smacked himself in the face. If he damned himself, he would damn Daniel. He deserved much better than hell, he deserved so much better than anything Caleb could give him. It would not serve him well to dwell on the book’s contents and seductive promises.

But what could be the harm in just looking? Caleb thought, pulling into the driveway of the house he was renting a room within. 

Caleb slipped the book under his sweater, looking around. The knitting was thick enough to obscure the outline of the grimoire, and it was early enough in the year to hold his arms in front of his chest. He pulled the handle of the car door and swung it open before he removed his keys from the ignition. He shoved the keys into his right pocket and stepped out of the car. Closing the car door behind him, he stepped out onto the driveway. The grass was still wet from the sprinklers as he walked from the driveway to the door. The lights were still on. One of his roommates appeared to still be awake.  likely Lydia, based on the time. Caleb slid his key into the door handle and pushed it open. 

The door opened into a small room, a coat rack on one side. Caleb closed the door behind him and breathed in the familiar smell of home. A small lamp on the kitchen table illuminated Lydia reading a book; a mug of tea in front of her. She turned the page, looked over, and smiled. 

“Dinner was really good tonight,” she called out, looking back to her book, “And I think you’ll like it. I saved you some. It's that alfredo that I make."

“Thanks for saving it,” he said with a smile, “I’ll make sure to have some after I put my stuff in my room.” 

“No problem,” she continued, “Juno won't be joining us. She went to her room after dinner and I think she’s watching TV, or reading or something before bed.”

Later that night, the alfredo still filling his stomach, Caleb opened his door and walked over to his desk and pulled the book out. ‘Crossroads & Conjures’ was written on the cover with elegant writing. The cover was far too worn for the apparent age of the book, and the ink had faded from the letters on the cover. A name in Cyrillic lettering was written beneath a swirl on the cover. The cloth on the front was a faded blue-gray, ridged from use and thread-bare thinness.

“Caleb,” she called.

“Coming!” he replied, turning and leaving the room.

Caleb pulled the book off the desk and sat down on his bed. He opened the book, slowly leafing through the pages. The book was divided into three sections, each covering a different subject. The first section appeared to focus on the differing types of demons. The second focused on summoning in general. The third was a list of particular demons and how to summon them. Gruesome images of monsters with animal features stared up from the pages in that section: illustrations of the monsters luridly discussed in the pages. 

Caleb closed the book and set it down on his bedside table. It was far too much to consider that night, and it was getting late. He rubbed his eyes, looking at the clock. It was a quarter to eleven. Even without work tomorrow, he had to get to sleep. It had been a long day. More importantly, it seemed that no answers would come from that book. All the entries described horrible fates for those who made mistakes, and some of the descriptions warned that horrible fates befell all those who summoned these demons. It was simply far too risky to summon anything, considering he hadn’t even fully put forth a good faith effort into sleeping with Daniel. Caleb crawled under the covers and turned out the light. It was better to forget this entire mess. 

~

Daniel curled around Caleb in the pale light of morning. He inhaled the scent of his lover’s bronze skin and relaxed. He kissed his neck gently and hugged him closer. 

“Hmmmm, we shouldn’t be doing this, you know,” he murmured, “We could get caught.”

“Who cares if we get caught?” Caleb whispered back, his breath tickling Daniel’s ear. 

Daniel nibbled on Caleb’s neck. He gently turned around to face him, drawing himself closer to his lover. He pressed his lips to Caleb’s mouth, soft and insistent, slipping his hand further down his back. He returned to kissing his lover’s neck and he moaned. His hand slipped further and further down, feeling his smooth skin and resting on the small of his back. He squeezed his eyes shut. Daniel moved his hand around Caleb’s waist. He gasped and his eyes shot open. Those hands felt unusually cold for a spring morning. It was like they were sapping the warmth from the air. 

“You ok?” he asked, parting from his neck. 

Caleb blinked and shook his head. Something was off about Daniel. Something he couldn’t quite place. It was like the life had been drained from him. Like he had been replaced with an exact copy, a soulless shell that wasn’t quite right. His eyes were too dull, the concern on his face too plastic.

“It's nothing,” he lied, “I was just surprised.”

Daniel’s lips quirked into a rigid grin and returned to Caleb’s neck. He moaned and he slipped his hands down further, feeling his erection. He gently stroked his fingers across the head of his penis. His voice shuddered as he moaned Daniel’s name, his face reddening. He rolled him over and pushed him down into the bed. He crawled down, kissing his chest the entire way. Caleb pet his hair and pushed him further, anticipation building in his chest. 

“I love you, Caleb,” he said, kissing the inside of his thigh. 

Daniel kissed closer and closer to Caleb’s groin. His lips brushed the shaft of his penis. Caleb moaned and gripped the sheets. Daniel moved his lips to the tip of Caleb’s penis, and kissed it lightly. He arched his back, moaning the other man’s name loudly. Daniel pushed down, sharp teeth brushing Caleb’s body…

~

...Caleb woke up yelling, gasping for breath. The sheets between his legs were wet and sticky, damp with a feeling he often received when he dreamed about Daniel. He lifted the sheets and looked beneath them. Cum was splattered across his legs and on the sheets between. He sighed, wiping himself off with tissues from a nearby box, and pulling on his boxers. “7:00” glowed yellow on his clock, a simple click turning off the alarm. 

"Goddamn it," he breathed, "Not again" 

Caleb opened the drawers of his dresser, sifting through the clothing. He was better than this, more mature. He wasn't 19 anymore and he knew he should be able to control this by now. It simply wasn't proper to think of a priest in that way. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, heading to the bathroom. A nice, cold shower would end these thoughts, if just for today. The white tiled floor was cold beneath his feet as he pulled open the cloudy shower door. The magnet secured the door with a satisfying click as it closed behind him. He turned the knob and cold water rushed from the showerhead to cascade off him. His mind cleared, and he turned the knob; warming the water. Scrubbing off the sweat and cum from previous days, his thoughts returned to the book. 

There were demons listed in there that could cause love between a man and woman. How different would love between two men be? 

_ A lust demon could even do in a pinch _ , he thought,  _ I could just summon one up and have them make Daniel love me, or crave me, enough to leave. If I repent afterwards, I’ll die with a clean conscience. At least I’ll have tried. _

Caleb rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, and turned off the water. He opened the shower door, shivering from the chilly, room temperature air, and grabbed the towel. The door swung open again, the towel wrapped around his waist and he stepped out onto the tiles. Brushing his teeth, Caleb began to orchestrate a plan. He would find the lowest ranking lust demon and summon them for help. If that didn't work, he would just move on to the next one. Getting dressed, he walked back to his bedroom, picking up  _ Crossroads & Conjures _ and sat on his bed flipping through the pages. He would simply have to wait for the right moment. 

**_2-4 weeks before Corpus_ **

Caleb stood before the blood pentagram, the candles and incense smoking. The blood he spilled on the ground and the heavy scent of tiger’s blood incense made him dizzy as he flipped the pages. He inhaled the fumes deeply, and focused on the buzzing energy of the room. 

“I evoke the Great Duke Zepar of Hell. I recognize your power and influence, Oh great ruler of 26 legions. It is through your power and influence that men and women are brought together,” he recited, “and it is by a single flick of your wrist that the womb of the daughters of men become barren. I beseech you for assistance in a matter of love, in exchange for your manifestation, I offer you a gift of wine.” 

Caleb took a prepared goblet of wine and poured it into the circle. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. If he fucked up the enn, Zepar would not appear, or worse, another would appear in his place. The last few demons either had not appeared, or had simply refused to help. They’d all told him that they were not capable of such things, and to talk to those above them. 

“Lyan Ramec catya Zepar” he chanted under his breath, repeating the words until they lost meaning. 

The words circled around his head, seeming to resound and build. There seemed to be a static charge in the air, slowly building to an end unknown. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut ever tighter. Opening them before the time was right could end badly. The clanging of metal plates clashing sounded in the room. 

“What is it that you wish for my assistance with?” said a voice directly in front of Caleb. 

Caleb let his eyes flutter open. A soldier in Roman armor sat in the middle of the pentacle, slit eyes glaring at him. The soldier appeared to sit on a simple stool, something he did not remember owning. The centurion’s roughly shaved face glared and twisted into an impatient frown. Caleb got to his knees and bowed. Follower of Christ or not, it would be better not to piss off a demon, let alone a member of whatever passed for nobility in Hell. He would end up there soon enough anyway.

“Great Duke Zepar, I want to ask you to make a man I love return my feelings,” he explained, “If he already does, I want to ask you to make it so he loves me enough to leave the priesthood.” 

Zepar sighed, standing up from their chair, which promptly vanished. They walked over to the edge of the pentagram and stood inches away from Caleb. The floor creaked solidly underneath his sandals, and he worried that Lydia or Juno would be concerned and check on him.   

“In exchange for what?” they replied, “I am certain you know that none of us will help you for free.”

Caleb swallowed and looked down. He had hoped to negotiate this after he had learned if they could help him. But it seemed he had to give his price immediately. 

“Twenty years servitude, your Highness,” he answered, “If that would not satisfy you, I would be willing to offer my soul.”

Zepar’s face softened as they took a step away from him.  The sound of someone rolling in bed upstairs caused Caleb's heart to race. If someone were to walk in on this, it would look bad. Very, very bad. 

“I am unable to help you,” he admitted, “As I can only control the love between man and woman, and not the love between men.”

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief, cutting it short when he realized the demon would take offense. He had hoped they would refuse him, although he desperately prayed for success. 

“Even if I could, he already loves you and it is not my place to increase love,” he continued, “Not to mention that what you wished to give me would not be enough.”

Zepar’s face twisted in a smile of pity. 

“If you truly wish to take this priest as your lover, then I would suggest speaking to one of the kings. King Beleth can grant love between individuals, and he would be willing to help for the price of your soul,” they revealed, their face seeming to subtly twitch on it's own, “However, your situation has caught the attention of King Asmodeus. He wishes to speak with you about the nature of your situation, and if you try to summon another of us, he will likely appear in their stead.” 

Caleb’s face broke into a smile. It may not have been what he was hoping to hear, but at least it was a place to start. If he had a place to start, then he would at least be able to find what he wanted or needed. It may be hard, but at least he wouldn’t be groping in the dark. Asmodeus had been the demon he had seen the first day, and he had read over the summoning. It was deceptively simple, without the incense or elaborate evocations of others. 

“I thank you, Grand Duke, for your help. I bid you depart, and leave this place,” Caleb concluded.

“Very well,” he remarked, “Just remember to not be a fool and let Asmodeus name his price when you summon him. He won’t take kindly to arrogance.”

Vepar turned around and began to walk away, seeming to dissipate into the smoke of the incense. They paused, almost completely transparent, and turned to face Caleb.

“One last thing,” he added, “ Are you a virgin?” 

“Yes?” Caleb responded, confused.

“Good Luck."


	2. The Devil's Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb tries to fight back against Ashmedai, and discovers that its ability to control lust is far greater than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Dub/noncon, mind control, body horror, some implied gore, crossdressing maybe?  
> If you got through 99 and corpus you can handle this.  
> Thank you Claude for letting me play in your sandbox.  
> Also mind the tildes.

**_Sometime After Corpus_ **

The ground stuck to Caleb's face as he woke up. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious. If he were honest with himself, all he knew was that it hadn't been long enough. Not in this dark, timeless hell. He shouldn't have picked up that book, except to burn it. That was his first mistake. Of course, listening to a demon wasn't wise either, and neither was summoning a demon king.

It wasn't like he knew that it would turn out this way, either. All he had wanted to do was to give Daniel the push to stay with him. After that, he would have willingly walked into the dark with whatever he had summoned and been done with it. He hadn't expected the summoning to go so... poorly. Shivers traveled up and down his spine as he remembered Ashmedai picking him up by the neck and dropping him on the bed. If he escaped this, he would never again touch a single book involving demons, let alone anything telling you how to summon them. He would join the priesthood, become a monk, anything to escape the hell he had put himself in.

His mind flashed back to the night of the summoning. To Ashmedai kissing him, seeming to push something down his throat, be it tongue or vomit or even worse. Then his mind began to wander to the rest of that moment, realizing that the demon had also pushed.... He couldn't think of that. It was impure. It wasn't right for him to think of that.

"Why not~?" chimed in an oily voice from the shadows, "After all, this is what the rest of your existence will be like for you~. You're already damned, why not think about the things that would normally damn you~?"  

Caleb sat upright, ignoring the gravel stuck to his face and scrambled backwards. It had been a miracle that he had gotten a minute or two alone, he knew that. But if he ran, he could maybe buy himself a little extra time. A minute, thirty seconds at worst. It would be enough time to brace himself before the inevitable horror started again. He managed to stand up, throwing gravel up into clattering showers, and run. The dark obscured anything farther than maybe a dozen feet away from him. It was better that way. Light was dangerous. Light meant that it was there and that it could find you.

"I really don't appreciate being called 'It', you know~," the voice echoed, sounding annoyed this time.

Caleb ignored ITS voice and continued to run, the gravel crunching softly beneath him. It had been months, and he hadn't found an end to the fields, or even the infinite dark. Once he had managed to find a console, a connection to the outside world. He had gotten a few words out, a few motions, maybe, as a strange man kissed his neck. But the light from what looked like a screen had revealed his location and ITS hand had shot out from the dark and dragged him back to start the torment anew.

"I know you're calling me that to annoy me," it said, the oiliness replaced by scratchy roughness, "and I really don't appreciate it."

Caleb rolled his eyes and continued to sprint. His lungs burned for air and he scanned the horizon for signs of light. Blue glimmered faintly to the left, the same blue that had illuminated him when he had sent his last few cries for help to the outside world. He turned away from it. Further into the shadows was safety. Further into the shadows it would be harder to find him. The light would only get him caught, and the chances of him getting help were so small it was not worth it to try. He was alone.

Well, he wished he was alone, desperately and with all of his heart. Alone would have been better than this. Better than a field of gravel that smelled of creosote and rotten soot, and a demon who toyed with him. Caleb realized that that's what had been going on and stopped cold. Ashmedai could hear the sounds of him running and panting, and could likely see him in the dark. If he were honest with himself, he could also likely feel his exact location in his mind, and simply appear wherever he was in the space of a single moment. The only reason he would have let Caleb run is to have a little fun, to break the monotony of constant torture. It was all a game.

"You finally figured that out~? I would have thought you would be smart enough to have gotten that by now~," the voice commented, the former oiliness returning to his tones, "But please, keep running, its more fun for both of us that way~."  

Caleb let his eyelids flutter closed, waiting for long-clawed hands to reach out and pull him into the dark. He knew it was coming, it was only a matter of time. It was always just a matter of time. Ashmedai wanted him to fight back, wanted him to struggle so he could have a little fun. If he wanted him to fight back to much, then he would by taking the fun away from him. Relaxing and lying there like a limp ragdoll would frustrate him, and eventually he would get bored. Perhaps even let him go.

"If you do that, I'll have to find another way to have fun. Maybe I'll just tweak a few things so you enjoy it. How does that sound?" the voice threatened, sounding detachedly annoyed, "Of course, you won't like that you like it, so you'll start fighting back again."

Caleb opened his eyes, looking back and forth to consider his options. Either way, he would be parting his legs no matter what he wished. The only bit of control he has was in how. He could fight back, struggling against the hands that dragged him into the dark and held him down, closing his legs until the muscles were torn while they were pried apart. That way, at least he could say he fought back and kept a shred of his dignity intact, although the demon would be pleased. The other option was to relax, let the hands claim him, lie back and think of Daniel. Caleb could argue that was the better option. There was much less pain involved, and he would be able to simply zone out and think of other things. Not to mention Ashmedai getting frustrated and bored. But when he got out of this, he wouldn't be able to face himself. He would have to face the fact that he let himself be violated and did nothing about it.

"If I have any input, out of those choices option one sounds better~. There's always option three, however~," Ashmedai chimed in, notably close, "In that one, you participate willingly and let yourself enjoy what's happening to you~. I alter your emotions so that no matter what happens, it feels good to you~. That one usually feels the best for both of us~."

Caleb swallowed, his mouth feeling like it had been stuffed full of dandelion seeds. His foot pulled away from the ground, stepping forward of what seemed its own accord. He knew who lied perhaps 30 feet ahead of him in the dark, and he knew he had little chance of escaping. Running at this point would only get him pushed to the ground and used. The gravel would cut into him and impale him, and it would only hurt more. It was best to walk forward and face the horror coming to him.

The hair was the first thing to creep out of the dark. Long, black, and shiny, it looped around and curled like water on the gravel. Under the light of the sun, or the glow of electric lamps, the hair would have had a blue tint to its shine, almost teal at its brightest. It was a beautiful thing to behold, no matter the horror that it belonged to. The hair flowed upward, trailing back to a rock, Ashmedai reclining on it.

He faced away from Caleb, looking into the distance. The red glow of his eyes spilled from behind his form, backlighting him with a vicious scarlet hue. He leaned on one arm, the other draped over his hip, and the end of his tail lazily rattled. An eye poked out from underneath the base of the tail. It looked straight at Caleb, following his movements.

"You finally decided to come see me~?" he crooned, glancing over his shoulder, "Took you long enough~. You finally want to get this over with~?"

Caleb shook his head, stepping back with a flinch. Ash rolled over, the hair moving to flow away from him. He rested his head on folded hands, a sly smile creeping onto his face. He crossed his hooves, starting intently at him.

"No~? Then why did you approach me, foolish boy~?" he asked, sharp teeth flashing in a threatening smile, "You must have known this would end that way~."

Caleb swallowed.

"I know," he confessed, "And I accept that it will. Doesn't mean I want to, though."

"But you could have kept running, let me track you down and drag you away~," he said, a disappointed frown flashing before returning to a cat-like smile, "It would have been so much more fun to let me do that to you~."

"Yes, it would have," Caleb explained, "That's why I'm here."

Ashmedai's smile quickly turned into an enraged snarl, and claws quickly shot out, grabbing Caleb by his neck. He relaxed, letting himself go limp. A pitying smile shot across his face as the demon growled. His grip tightened on his neck, and a choked laugh bubbled from Caleb's lips. His grip released and he fell to the floor in a heap, coughing as he began to breathe. Ashmedai's serene smile returned, and he sat up, legs still crossed.

"You really think you're the first whore of mine to think of that, don't you~?" he taunted, "It's really quite unoriginal. I have ways around it~."

Caleb gasped for air, holding his throat. It felt like his throat had collapsed on itself, cutting off his lungs. He looked at Ashmedai, still struggling to breathe. His smile seemed to widen as he choked and struggled.

"For example, I could take you right now, forcing myself into you and down your crushed windpipe~," he explained, "That would be fun, and you would struggle instinctively, like you have something stuck in your throat~."

Ashmedai gestured at Caleb's throat and it popped open, air rushing in. Tears ran in his eyes as he finally stopped choking.

"However, that would break your fragile little psyche, and while that is something I quite enjoy, I don't want to do that yet~," he continued, "I think this time I'll have a little fun with you~. Tainting the things you love will definitely mess with you, even if you do get out of here~."

Caleb stood up and started to back away, realizing that he was an utter moron who had made a gigantic mistake. Ashmedai stood up, slinking towards him at an identical pace. His hand shot out, trying to block the demon from getting any closer. It rolled its eyes, and quickened its pace. The crunch of hooves on the gravel made his heart race and he started to turn, hoping to run fast enough to get away.  Reaching out, it grabbed him by the throat once again, raising him to eye level. Tears rolled down his face. He cried out, wordlessly begging to be let go. He stared into the glowing eyes and saccharine smile of his captor and froze, his fear swelling beyond tears. The smile grew, and Caleb felt himself being thrown backwards onto the ground.

Caleb landed on a bed covered in red silk sheets. The darkness and wastelands around him dissolved into an opulent room. The ceiling seemed painted to look like stucco (or was possibly actual stucco). Gold leaf accented rope like-carvings on the crown moulding, and the wallpaper was red with a Victorian pattern. The sheets were covered in paisleys and a set of lace lingerie was laid out beside him. Red lace boy shorts, a matching lacy faux-corset, stockings and a garter belt. Dread sunk deep in his gut, thinking about their reason for being here. He had a nearly identical set at home that he sometimes wore when he allowed himself to feel attractive.

"Put those on~," Ashmedai’s voice ordered flirtily.

Caleb looked up. Ashmedai stood in front of a mirror, rapidly shapeshifting into the form of Daniel and back. A look of indecision was on its face, seemingly bored by this. It started switching to other forms.

"W-What?" He stuttered out.

"You're going to get fucked in those, I like it when my toys look pretty~," it explained, settling on the form of the dancing boy, "It's your choice whether that means I'm going to rape you or not~. Now put them on~."

Caleb nervously gathered the underthings and pulled them on as slowly as he could. Ashmedai watched intently from the mirror as he pulled on his panties, clipped the stocking into place, and hooked the corset into place. Its eyes scanned him from top to bottom, lingering at his groin and chest. He crawled into bed and watched as the demon licked its lips and turned to face him. A smile grew, twitching across its face as it walked over.

Caleb shut his eyes as Ashmedai climbed on top of the bed, settling between his legs. He could feel that it was excited, and shrunk away in fear. Fingers with sharp nails softly caressed his face. Smooth lips kissed him, silencing his fearful panting. A hand gently rubbed the inside of his thigh. Ashmedai pressed into him, causing him to mutter softly beneath his lips. He pushed him, both hands shoving him away.

 "You realize that's not actually going to stop me, right~?" it said, almost playfully mocking, "At best, it's going to confuse me for a few seconds~."

Caleb shook his head and began to shiver.

"I'll take rape, just stop making me want this," he begged, his voice shaking.

"I don't care what you want! You begged for the pain to stop when I forced myself on you," it groaned, "and now that I'm making sure that you are in as little pain as possible so you stop whining, you are complaining about wanting it. _Shut up, and take it like the little sextoy you are!_ "

Caleb felt a wave of desire and calm wash over him, pushing his panic and fear below the surface. He fought the strange emotions, glaring at Ashmedai. The last words had an unnatural sound about them, seeming to reverberate far too much for the small room.  The demon stared blankly, almost as if it were waiting for something to take effect. He felt the unnatural calm surge ahead, pushing down the last of his anxiety.

Ashmedai smiled, sharp teeth flashing, stroking his face again, and leaning in to kiss him. Caleb leaned in to meet the kiss halfway, internally fighting against the effect of his calm. He didn't want this. He did not want this. He didn't ...want ...this. He ...didn't ...want ...this. He wanted this. Dear God, he wanted this. He needed this. He needed this like it was the air he breathed. God, he needed it.

Caleb pushed further into the kiss, placing his hand on the back of Ashmedai head. It moaned in surprise, lowering its hand back onto his thigh, gently rubbing it as before. He pushed into him, hard from his newfound desire. It smiled, rubbing his waist. It slowly rolled him over and pulled his ass into the air, admiring its softness. It popped up onto its knees, grinding into him between the cheeks. He moaned, straining into the pillows.

Ashmedai smiled, cutting Caleb's panties open with a single claw. It moved its hand, rubbing the front of the lace panties and listening to muffled moans come from the pillows. It put its thumb over his anus, pressing gently. He cried out into the cushions, pushing down onto the hand.

Ashmedai shifted form, horns sprouting from his skull. Flicking its wrist, its claws shortened, turning into small, nail-like points. Caleb shook beneath it, still fighting the lust swirling through his head. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as it pushed its index finger inside him. It brushed its finger around inside him, experimentally, poking and prodding the walls of his hole. A shock coursed through his body as it brushed his prostate. It smiled, continuing to rub the small bump. He squirmed, arching his back and fighting the urge to moan or scream.

Ashmedai stroked Caleb’s pale back, reveling in how he shuddered beneath its claws. It rubbed its hand on his waist, admiring the small, pale body beneath it. Pulling out its finger, it gently rolled the boy over. He panted, tears budding in his eyes. The lust still bubbled from within his mind, washing over his fear. Fighting back was doing nothing, and not even it’s fearsome new form could break through his desire.

Ashmedai looked down. Caleb was clearly aroused, panting and stifling moans, His cock had gently hardened, precum beading on the tip.  Its lips ached from the anticipatory smile, saliva oozing from behind its sharp teeth. It bent down, licking its teeth and bringing its lips down to kiss his erect penis through the lace. He moaned loudly, more precum leaking from the tip. It sat up, gently working a pair of fingers into him. A loud gasp escaped his lips as its fingers moved in a small circle inside of him. He bit his lip, still desperately trying to fight his desire. It smiled, slipping another finger into Caleb. It knew it was winning, and it was going to draw out every precious moment.

Ashmedai watched as Caleb’s back arched in pleasure, feeling his resistance beneath the surface. He was learning how to fight back, how to resist the seductive draw of his own lust turned against him, but soon it wouldn’t matter and there would be no possibility of escape. After it took him to hell, there would be plenty of time to break him properly. Then he would beg for it. But for now it had to keep turning his own mind against himself.

Ashmedai pulled out its fingers, flicking its claws to their normal size. Caleb panted beneath him, tears budding in his eyes. It opened its lower lips, the tentacle smoothly writhing out. The tip brushed against his loose anus, leaving behind a slime trail, and causing him to yelp. It rubbed him softly, listening to him whimper as soft circles were made around his orifice. The boy was completely under its power.

Caleb cried out as Ashmedai squirmed a foot of tentacle inside of him. A burning sensation began to radiate upwards as it thrusted further and further into him. A blissful feeling of pleasure rose from his groin, meandering up as it pushed harder and harder into him. The mixing of the sensations tingled, like saltwater and ice. It stroked his chin, the claws prickling as they scraped his flesh. He moaned, each of the sensations interweaving into one, overwhelming him. The blood in his cheeks buzzed beneath his skin. Shiny droplets of precum rolled down the shaft of his penis, tickling the way down.

Caleb’s breath rattled as Ashmedai continued to fuck him. It smiled, kissing his lips and letting one of its hands wander downwards. He closed his eyes as fingers flicked away the precum on his shaft. His eyes fluttered open as it licked the fluids off of it’s fingers and smiled with anticipation. It lowered its hand once more, stroking his penis almost affectionately. He screamed, the threads of the sheets beginning to chafe the inside of his fists. The muscles in Caleb’s shoulders tensed up, the wisps of pleasure and bliss building to unbearable levels.

Then Caleb’s entire body relaxed, the tension and stress dissipating in a burst of pleasure. He felt the cum squirt out of his dick, splattering on the red lace of his lingerie. He gasped and cried, his groin aching from the orgasm. Ashmedai smiled, its hands mopping up the sperm, licking it off until he was clean. He gulped, the tears turning into full blown wailing. It smiled and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. The demon sighed and then thrust into him once more, this time moving gently against his hips.

“Please… I can’t take this any more,” he gasped out through his hiccups, “Let me pass out, I’ll do anything when I wake up.”

Ashmedai rolled six of its eyes and buried its face into Caleb’s neck. Caleb yelped in protest, trying to push it away one more.

“Did I say I was going to stop when you came?~” it crooned tauntingly, “I'm not done yet.~”

The next few hours were a frothy mix of pleasure, burning pain, and confusion. Caleb buckled and screamed as his body betrayed him, occasional jolts of warm feeling scattered like dry heaves on an empty stomach. Ashmedai was finding new ways to poke and prod him in ways that felt blissful and wonderful, and he came screaming a few more times.  It seemed to delight in his struggles, the corners of it’s cheeks twitching into a smile when his screamed grew louder. The minutes and hours blurred together, and he was unable to tell when each new torment began and ended. His mind was overwhelmed by the sensations he was feeling, and he was grateful when it became too much and the darkness overtook him.

Ashmedai looked down at Caleb’s sleeping form and felt a twinge of disappointment. He had lasted about the same amount of time as most of his other contracts, but it still wasn’t enough. Desire still buzzed between his thighs, burning like an unscratchable itch. It could push against him more and possibly have it fade with neither climax nor pain. It was the best it could hope for, considering the cursed spiral time formed outside the physical. But even with that, it had things to attend to in Hell. It pulled itself out of the choir boy and drew its tentacle back inside its lower mouth. Its teeth clicked as its groin closed and it walked away from Caleb’s collapsed form. It would be back long before he woke up.

Caleb woke up, blinking his eyes in the darkness once more. He reached up, rubbing his eyes as the fog began to clear from his mind. He wondered how long he had been asleep. It hadn’t been long enough. It was never long enough. But somehow he knew that it had been longer than last time. There was a slight nagging feeling in the back of his head saying that he should have woken up sooner. Not to mention that he was lying on his back, when he normally slept on his side. There was something else going on, and it was likely that he would be hurt.

Caleb reached up to stretch out, and his hand hit wood. Splinters pierced his skin, causing drops of blood to leach out and create small flowers of red in the creases of his hand. He cried out, pulling his hand back and pulling out the wood.

“Oh, so you’re awake finally~?” Ashmedai’s voice purred from above him, “That’s good, I was wondering if I would have to wake you up myself~.”

Caleb flailed in the dark, feeling his limbs hit wood. Ashmedai had put him in a box, barely large enough to hold him. It could have been a coffin for all he knew.

“Chasing after you has gotten boring~,” it explained, “I figure that fucking you will be more fun when you’re fresh and struggling anyway~.”

Caleb curled in on himself, trying to keep himself from crying. He felt the beginnings of bruises on his arms begin to bud beneath his skin. Why hadn’t he tried to escape when there was a chance? If he ran he would be noticed now, but even that relied on him being able to crawl from the coffin. If Ash were intelligent it would have nailed or locked the box shut. It would be impossible now.

This would be Caleb’s eternity now.


	3. Judgment, and the World on the Flipside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conclusion to the Choirboy's tale. Caleb searches for the truth of the month in the dark and finds consequences, as well as more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the close of all of this, I would like to thank the source author, KM Claude. I would also like to thank my significant other, as well as my beta readers. Mostly, I thank my readers like you.   
> I ain't from a Catholic small town, so I'm basing this off the shit I've encountered in a Chrisitan small town my grandparents live in. I apologize for cultural inaccuracies.   
> For a semi-painful bonus, look up the meanings of flower Daniel puts on Adam's tomb. I promise you'll love it. Another bonus is the chapter titles of all three parts. Props to anyone who figures out what they mean and why.   
> I had a lot of fun with this fic, and while it was more self-indulgent, I hope its just as enjoyable as the first two parts to y'all.

**_April 28th, 2015_ **

Caleb sat in a kitchen chair, the lamp nearby creating a puddle of orange in the midnight-blue morning. The sky was slowly lightening as night changed to dawn. He compulsively snapped and unsnapped the clasp of his hospital bracelet, thinking about his visit. It had been strange, to say the least. Three weeks, a panel of STD tests, and two sets of stitches for what they had told him had been a month-long bout of severe pneumonia and a mild fall. He wasn’t complaining, as his insurance had thankfully covered the entire bill, and he didn’t have to pay more than 50 dollars in total. 

But the way that Daniel looked at Caleb. The EEG Daniel had begged the doctors to conduct before they let him go. The glares from Lydia, and the concerned glances from Juno. There was a distinct sense of unease that people had acquired around him, and it troubled him. Had he done something in the month he had lost? Had he said something to them? No matter what had happened, he had to make amends and get back to life as normal. There was simply no choice.

Caleb snorted. A small voice in his head insisted that things would never be the same again, and he knew that it was right. A dark presence flitted in his dreams, licking and prodding. The same darkness was found in the eyes of those who looked at him in pity, anger, or fear. Something horrible had happened, no, he had done something horrible, and it would never get better. All he could do was move on and hope that whatever he had done was not illegal. 

His self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by Lydia pulling a chair out across the table and sitting down. She looked at him over fingers laced in suspicion. She looked at him closely, studying every feature of his face intently. She sighed and leaned back, pulling a cigarette from her back pocket and lighting it. 

“Ms. Juno won’t be happy when she finds out you’re smoking again,” he chastised in a worried tone, “She’s going to have a fit about the furniture and the smell” 

Lydia scoffed, taking a deep drag. 

“She knows. She can’t really blame me though, considering what’s happened,” she quipped, “I’m not the one on shaky ground right now though, so it's best you shut up about this if she asks you.”

“Wait, why am I on shaky ground? What happened, what did I do?” he asked, startled by the harshness of his best friend’s tone.

Lydia rolled her eyes and looked at him with disgust. 

“You’re really saying you don't know?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “You don’t remember a thing from the last month?” 

“NO, I DON’T, AND PEOPLE KEEP LYING TO ME OR REFUSING TO TELL ME ANYTHING AND IT'S GETTING FRUSTRATING!!” he shouted, his anger boiling over with tears in his eyes, “I lost an entire month of my life, and people seem to think of me differently now, and I don't know why!”

Lydia crushed her cigarette into an unused ashtray and exhaled a mouthful of smoke. She continued to glare at Caleb and then sighed and looked down. 

“You were really, really sick Caleb,” she explained, obviously lying in a sarcasm bathed tone, “Apparently the… pneumonia had spread to your spine and caused meningitis. You were delirious enough that you… well, you tried to attack me..” 

“Oh dear God, I’m so sorry Lyds, I didn’t realize that I’d done that, I-” he gasped, ignoring the lie. 

“I don’t care if you are sorry. I know you were delirious, but you just can’t forgive some things,” she said, “Granny’s not happy either, but she wasn’t attacked by her best friend.”

Caleb winced at the mention of his sins. He knew he was going to have to face what he had done, but he just wanted to get back to his life and worry about the consequences when he was ready. 

“If it weren't for Granny, you’d be out on the streets right now. I sometimes think about just calling the police and telling them what you did,” she explained, “The only issue is that the only other witness isn’t available.”

“Please don’t! If I could, I would undo whatever it was I did. I’ll do what I can to make it up to you,” he said, surprised at the desperation he heard from himself, “I know I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but I’m going to undo as much of the damage as I can.”

Lydia covered her eyes, flashing a disbelieving smile as her hand moved to hide her mouth. Caleb winced as a laugh bubbled from her chest. The laugh seemed devoid of mirth. It sounded as if it were fueled by disbelief and anger. He shrunk, waiting for the shouting that would inevitably come, accepting that he would deserve whatever she would tell him.

“Spoken like a true monster,” she sighed.

Caleb froze and looked at her, confusion and fear bubbling up from within him. 

“What did I do to you, Lydia?” he said, “I don't remember, but…. If I really hurt you like that, I need to turn myself in or pay for your therapy or...”

“If you’re really serious about that, I would suggest talking to the Father first,” she interrupted, “You’ve got quite the apology to make to him.”

~

The head librarian perused the hospital paperwork, occasionally looking up at Caleb. He silently swallowed as the wind outside whipped the spring leaves into a kaleidoscope of greens. A clock ticked somewhere as the librarian double checked each page. She put them down neatly,  tapping the corners until the pile was neatly in line. She looked up at Caleb, lacing her fingers on the desk and sighing.

“This is all the paperwork that is necessary for you to return from leave,” she stated.

Caleb nodded, pressing his lips together. The carpet rasped as he shifted his foot, the stillness in his legs beginning to ache. The librarian sighed again, pressing her temples.

“I’m going to let you continue working here. Thankfully you had the foresight to call in sick, or otherwise I would have handed you your belongings the moment you walked in the door,” she said, “Because of some of the things people have told me you have done, I’m placing you on probation and removing you from any duties involving the children’s section. I know you well, and I don’t think you were in your right mind, but these are good, God-fearing, reliable witnesses. I don’t doubt their veracity.”

Caleb exhaled. 

“May I know what I am being accused of?” he asked, his mouth sandy.

“I can’t tell you that. If you don’t remember, you don’t need to. But the only thing keeping me from calling the police is the doctor’s signature beneath ‘delirium’ on the symptom list,” she confessed, “Just behave and keep your clean record clean and we can forget this happened.”

Caleb lowered his gaze to the floor, breathing easy. When he had woken up with an entire month gone, he had feared that he would have to look for another job. Those fears had been compounded when he finally sensed the unease of those around him. It was a relief that he could be back to work so soon. It meant that he was one step closer to his old life returning. But he couldn’t forget about making amends.

“Can I ask what people have said about me?” he asked modestly, praying she would lie to him. 

“They said you slept around quite a bit. With men of ill character,” the librarian said, “There is also a whispered rumor that you also assaulted someone. Cries were heard from your house. If the rumors hold up, they sounded like Father Daniel’s voice.”

Caleb’s mouth went completely dry and his pupils dilated.

“That’s ridiculous” he quietly rasped, “I don’t think I could ever do that.” 

The librarian raised an eyebrow, standing up and offering to shake Caleb’s hand. He didn’t move, dry and stiff with horror.

“I would ignore the rumors, but -- unlike you -- I have concerned parents to worry about,” she explained. 

Caleb nodded and finally stood up, shaking. He leaned on the chair for support and it creaked under his weight. 

“When is my first scheduled day back?” he asked, his voice dry and distant.

The librarian looked blankly at him, oblivious to his signs of distress. 

“You start next Monday. Try not to be late,” she explained.

“Thank you ma’am,” he croaked, turning to leave.

There wasn’t anything he was fatally allergic to. Bees just made him itchy and cats only made him feel like he had the flu. Yet his throat was closing like he had just been poisoned. His vision seemed to blur as he shuffled towards the door. The librarian said something behind him and he made a neutral noise to placate her. He needed a few moments to himself. 

~

Caleb gasped in his car, the grass in front of the church still wet from the night’s storm.  He struggled to think why he had gone here. Talking to Father Daniel would just make it worse. But even now, he needed the comfort of just being with the Father. He needed to hear him speak, to feel his presence again. He didn’t care what they talked about, or even if they sat in silence. He needed that old, familiar feeling of love to rush over him to remind him that he could move on. That he wasn’t a monster. 

Caleb rested his forehead on the wheel of the car. What had happened in the month he had lost? He could ask Daniel what happened, but with what the librarian had said, he doubted that Daniel would want to talk about it. He could try and surreptitiously try to figure out what had happened, but if Daniel figured it out, it might make him more hurt than he was before. If he wanted to repair things, he had to start as soon as he could, no matter how hard it would be. It still wasn’t right to just rip off the band-aid. He realized that the wisest course of action was simple: admit he didn't know what had occurred, apologize, and simply let Daniel talk about it when he was ready. He sighed and shut off the car engine, squeezing the keys into his palm.

Caleb opened the door of his shitty little car. Stepping out, he batted it closed again and held his breath even as he walked towards the steps of the church. The old wooden doors were cracked open. He walked in, trying to avoid the gazes of the women sweeping the floor, and sat down in one of the pews. He folded his hands in front of him, pretending to pray, and looked around him. Father Daniel was notably absent, the only moving figures the volunteers sweeping up and the choir director ushering out the last few choir members. He looked back down and tried to listen. He was probably in the back rooms. 

“Are you looking for Father Daniel?” the choir director asked, her sickly sweet voice seemingly instantly next to him. 

Caleb looked up at the director. She was smiling, the muscles of her cheeks pulled taut and twitching. Row after row of shiny perfect white teeth gleamed from beneath her rouged lips, and a subtle spasm revealed another row in the back of her mouth. The corners of her eyelids were wrinkled into crows feet, her eyes still far too open. There was a coldness to it, something wrong in the gleam of her eyes, and Caleb looked down. It didn’t feel like her normal smile, a warm and inviting grin that evoked the feeling of being cared for. This felt like a threat. He averted his eyes. 

“Uhm, yeah,” he mumbled, “Uh…. do you know where he is?” 

She straightened out, her hands still folded in front of her. 

“He’s putting flowers on someone’s grave, dear,” she said, her voice tackily sweet, “He’s out in the cemetery.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said. 

Caleb stood up and took a few steps towards the door. The choir director turned around, walking off to pick up the few items left behind. 

“Wait!” he called out, suddenly remembering the choir practice he had missed while delirious, “I forgot to tell you, I think I’m going to wait until I get back on my feet before I return to the choir.” 

The choir director turned around, another sickly smile flickering into being on her face. 

“Don’t worry about coming back,” she said, “We have been doing  _ perfectly fine _ in your absence. Your health is more important. Take as much time as you need!”

Caleb nodded, managing a weak smile. He turned and walked out of the room. The midday sun burned in his eyes as he exited the church. He walked slowly, trying to shield his eyes from the sun on the cars’ windshields. It wasn’t a long walk to the graveyard, a few hundred feet past the parking lot. There was a slight breeze, the leaves of the trees rattling. The graveyard seemed well shaded and cool compared to the slowly warming day. 

Caleb passed the edge of the graveyard, the black metal of the fence cutting the image of the tombs into strips the size of his palm. A figure in black stood at the far end of the graves, staring at a headstone. The hint of whispers flowed on the wind. Caleb reached the gate, stepping inside. He walked along the side of the driveway. Listening to the breeze and his own cautious breath, he approached Daniel.  

Father Daniel didn't seem to notice as Caleb stood next to him. The rustling of a willow on the other side of the fence calmed the silence. Daniel’s arms were clasped behind his back as he looked at the gravestone before him. The branches of the willow scraped the top of the tombstone, hissing as they did so. The sweet smell of rainflowers wafted up from a small bouquet at the base of the headstone.  A sigh escaped his mouth, and he turned to face Caleb. Caleb swallowed and then met his eyes. 

“I was just coming to tell you I’m out of the hospital and I’m ok,” Caleb haltingly explained, “You said the last time that you visited me that I should tell you when I get out.”

Daniel’s face relaxed into a sad smile. 

“Thank you, Caleb. It’s good to know you’re not harmed too badly,” he said, his voice slightly cracking, “How soon will it be until you come to mass again? I look forward to you coming back.” 

Caleb scratched the back of his head. 

“I…. I will try to come back as soon as I can. I just don’t know if I’d be welcome back,” he replied, “Everybody seems angry at me for some reason. From what I’ve heard, I’ve done something pretty horrible.”

Daniel’s face blanched and his eyes widened with fear before regaining his composure. Caleb felt the lump in his throat tighten into a knot. What had he done in those weeks he had lost? The comely lines of Daniel’s face relaxed into exhaustion again and he turned back towards the grave.

“You will always be welcome here, at least by me. Everyone can repent,” he said, looking at the tombstone. 

Caleb looked at the words etched in stone. Whoever this was, he had died recently.

“Who was he?” he asked, “Father Adam Gagnon. Did you know him?” 

“He- he was a good friend of mine. He used to be another priest here, and we were close,” he explained, sobs rising in his voice, “Apparently he had caught Tuberculosis when he was younger, and it hadn’t gone away fully. The infection had eaten away at an artery and he….”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Caleb apologized, “I can’t imagine what that had to be like. If there’s anything I can do….”

Daniel huffed. Caleb turned to face him. A disbelieving, pitying smile stretched across Daniels face and tears were pooling in his eyes. His head was gently shaking, and he turned back towards the grave. He passed his sleeve over his eyes, wiping the growing tears out of his eyes. 

“I think you would have liked him. I called him when I learned you were sick, and he did everything he could to help. I think he’d be happy that you are ok,” he explained, the smile on his face grieving, “He was a good man in the end. I wish you could have met him.”

“I have no doubt he was. I think he’d be proud of how you saved me,” Caleb reassured, “I think you will probably meet him again someday.”

Daniel smiled, tears beginning to flow again.

“I… I don’t know about that. With the things I’ve done,” he laughed, “I don’t think I’ll be going to heaven.” 

“Why would you say that?” Caleb said, quietly recoiling in horror.

“If only I hadn’t gotten so drunk, if only I had pushed him away,” he said, his voice quiet almost like he was speaking to himself, “If only I had forgiven him sooner, If only I had told him what was going on. I could have prevented this.”

Tears were now flowing freely down Daniel’s face. Caleb reached over, almost instinctually, and then recoiled. Touching Daniel again might excite feelings he couldn’t afford to have now. He waved his thoughts away and brushed Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel flinched away, fear flashing in his eyes. Caleb had seen that look before, on a girl in college. Her boyfriend had forced himself on her, and she had tried to kill herself later that month. His mind flashed to the librarian’s rumors. 

“I went along with what that monster wanted. For you,” Daniel whispered, crying as he stared into Caleb’s eyes, “I did everything it said. I did everything it asked and I almost liked it.”

“Daniel, what happened the month I was gone?” he asked, his voice shaky as he pulled his hand back, “Did I hurt anyone?” 

“It’s alright Caleb,” he reassured with a rapid voice, “You-  _ you _ didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault for failing you.”

Daniel smiled, almost blissfully. 

“Though, with what he did, I might just get to see Adam again.”


End file.
